


Solace

by Moviemuncher



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angels, Apocalypse, Demons, F/M, Fluff- I suppose, no sweeter innocence than their gentle sin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-21
Updated: 2017-05-21
Packaged: 2018-11-03 11:41:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 283
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10966500
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moviemuncher/pseuds/Moviemuncher
Summary: A moment for them.****Yet, when they were together, there was no war. No heaven, no hell, but there was, for a moment perhaps, paradise for them both. A simple moment of comfort, barely a second in their long lives.





	Solace

**Author's Note:**

> Short little drabble whilst I'm in the mood.

They both don’t know what they are doing. Two warriors, both from opposite ends of the fight. Yet, when they were together, there was no war. No heaven, no hell, but there was, for a moment perhaps, paradise for them both. A simple moment of comfort, barely a second in their long lives. He would hold her smaller vessel to his, whilst his true form surrounded hers, completely dwarfing her, shrouding her in light. A creature of the darkness, and she basked in it. 

Warmth, like she had never felt, not even when he flung her into holy fire, was what he blanketed her in. She nested within it, fears and prejudices forgotten. 

It never lasted. Once they pulled apart, both called to fight again, their armours came up. Her’s was a thorny sheath, poisoned at the tips. His was star forged silver, bright as his grace, and impenetrable. He wouldn’t waver, no matter what crossed his path. 

They both leave without fanfare, no sorrowful goodbyes or histrionics. They are simply there, then they leave. He returns to his army, and she to hers. Both are small now, the apocalypse decimating more than enough of each. 

The demon didn’t care who fell from her ranks, but she knew her angel felt each loss keenly. Sometimes she felt bad, felt bad when her faction experienced victory, however brief over an angel, and yet she didn’t stop. She didn’t stop, she never felt bad enough, and she never felt bad enough because it was never him. It never would be him. 

He wouldn’t kill her either. She was wound under his metaphorical skin, claws hooked in and he wouldn’t want to shake her off anyway.


End file.
